Archer's Dirty Secret
by Lady Kagewaki
Summary: Lieutenant Colonel Frank Archer is reinstating Prisnor Zolf Kimbley to a legitimate position in the military. Then Zolf stumbles on Frank's big secret. Contains adult themes and language.


Zolf Kimbley eyed a small indentation in the floor of Lieutenant Colonel Frank Archer's bedroom. He squatted down and ran his fingers over it. He hooked his index and middle finger in the indentation and pulled. He was surprised that the hatch was open. He lifted the creaky square of wood and recognized the sound as the one he had heard the other night. He saw a staircase that led down to darkness.

Kimbley stepped down the stairs into the darkness. 'What is this man hiding down here? Chimera's for the Fuhrer?' Kimbley pictured files upon files of secrets he could steal. He mentally rubbed his hands in anticipation. He pictured a desk with a lamp with a long wick to last through the night, a cup of sharpened pencils as Archer had kept on his desk in his office.

Kimbly heard the clinking of chains and what Kimbley saw with his own naked eyes was very different than what he had predicted with his minds eye. 'Holy shit…'

* * *

It all started a week earlier when Kimbley accepted Archer's invitation back into the military. Kimbley waltzed into Archer's large office to sign paperwork prepared by Archer's bookish but very blonde secretary.

Kimbley was prepared to hit on the blonde fox, but the title of his reinstatement caught his eye. "Lieutenant Colonel?"

Frank sat on the couch across from Kimbely with his legs crossed and an arm draped across the back of the couch. "Yes."

Kimbley eyed the fair skinned man across from him. His years in prison made him hypersensitive to the presence of others. He was in solitary confinement and shut off from most of the world. He was now hyper-alert to the physical presence of others. "So I'll be your equal, huh?" said Kimbley with delight. 'He's got a nice lean build to him. He's so damn focused too. I wonder if him and the blonde fox are knockin' boots. Shit, I would.'

Frank had been against the idea, but his higher ups insisted that the Crimson Alchemist be 'compensated' for his time at laboratory 5. Archer responded "Yes. Yes you will." 'At least it will irk Mustang. That piece of dirt alchemist. His vision is so limited.'

Kimbley didn't think much of Archer and Archer didn't think much of Kimbley. They saw each other as useful, but by no means friends or even comrades. Archer provided Kimbley with a salary and places to hide until he was officially allowed in public. Archer toyed with the idea of keeping the Crimson Alchemist in his own home but then thought the better of it.

"The accommodations provided to me were most satisfactory" said Kimbley, being eloquent just to mock Archer. He was discussing the hotel accommodations he was provided with. "I was hoping for something more personal and permanent—"

"Was the Jacuzzi and nightly bottle of Champaign not enough?" said Archer recalling the astronomical prices listed on the invoices for Kimbley's stay. "You realize once you are again a part of the military a lifestyle of such excess is inadvisable and partly illegal." 'How much porn can one man read in three days? Nevertheless also have time to eat so much steak and shellfish? That man's insides must be crawling with parasites and disease…'

As Frank's mind whirled with all the possible filth that was inside, surrounded, or left behind by Kimbley, Zolf eyed his new peer. 'He's one tightly wound screw, this Archer. Precise to the point of sick.' Kimbley smirked and said "It's been a while since I've been in society. I had a lot of catching up to do."

Frank sneered. "Regardless. I will be having a meeting this evening and you are to come." 'Dammit, he will have to come to my home. The Fuhrer insisted on keeping this private, but you didn't see him offering _his_ house to do it in.' "You will be escorted to—" 'I should keep it quiet that it is my home. I don't want him to get any _fun_ ideas before hand.' "the location and then they will take you back to military quarters where you will stay until called upon."

Kimbley's blood began to boil. "What do you mean? Called upon? Does that mean you're going to coop me up in a room and not let me out into the fresh air again?"

"You make it sound like prison" said Archer in defense.

"IT IS! I WANT TO BE IN FRESH AIR FOR ONCE! FUCK IT ARCHER FUCK IT ALL! WHAT'S THE POINT OF COMING OUT OF MY CELL IF I CAN'T EVEN GO OUTSIDE?" screamed Kimbley.

Frank gazed at Kimbley coolly. "If you wish to do so, we can easily have you placed _back_ in prison. If it is truly no different then we might as well save some money in the process." Archer tapped his finger on a pile of receipts nearby.

Kimbley settled down and said "Fine" through gritted teeth.

"Good. I'm glad we have an understanding" said Archer reveling in his control over such a powerful person. Then his secretary leaned over and poured the two gentlemen tea.

* * *

The evening arrived and Frank was sure to have his house in neat order before any of the officers arrived. He was fanatically clean and triple checked that there was no dust on his fireplace mantle. He looked out the window and saw some snow falling and decided to ready his foyer appropriately. There he laid down an old mat and plastic bags for their wet belongings. He readied a dry mop and rags to clean up the water after they had left.

He checked all the light bulbs to make sure they worked and spritzed a bit of disinfectant into the air. He began to straighten the tassels on his rug and then made sure all the glasses and tea cups in his china closet were in the correct formation. He showered and dressed himself awaiting the Fuhrer and company.

Frank was ready 30minutes before any of his guests should have arrived. He went through everything one more time to make sure it was perfect. When the door bell rang he waited a few seconds before he answered as not to seem too eager to please.

"Please gentlemen, come in" he said. The men came in and removed their large heavy winter coats. Their boots were soaked and Archer cursed himself for not rolling up the rug completely.

The Fuhrer noted the OCD like cleanliness of the house and of the host himself. 'I don't need Archer going off the deep end before I can use him.' The Fuhrer saw the white rug in the living room and suggested that the gentlemen remove their boots. The Fuhrer noted Frank's relief and chuckled at Archer's sensitivity.

The other officers had a drink to start the evening as they waited for the Crimson Alchemist to arrive. Archer was afraid that Kimbley was going to arrive in that ridiculous wife beater and his uniform pants. For some reason the man hated wearing his full uniform. 'Regardless he should not be wearing the uniform yet! We're deciding whether or not he should be doing this tonight!' He had better have cleaned up that rat's nest of a hair-do he has.'

As Archer mentally ticked off each of his fears of embarrassment that could stem from this meeting with Kimbley he maintained a calm and even charming exterior.

The blonde secretary was also in attendance to help out. She brought the gentlemen hors-d'œuvres and stood submissively behind Archer coming forward with the flick of his fingers. She added to his image and he knew it.

The doorbell rang and two officers entered in front of and behind Kimbley. Frank almost let out a sigh of relief when he saw the Crimson Alchemist. 'Thank the Maker' Kimbley had obtained a suit and groomed his hair neatly back. Frank questioned the ties he used, but knew that no one else would notice something like that, except perhaps his secretary. Even in her case she would only notice because she knew it was something he would notice.

The car drivers and security that came with Kimbley came inside to get out of the cold. Archer's secretary got them settled in the kitchen and gave them hot drinks to warm them up.

After Kimbley brushed the snow that had gathered on his shoulders Kimbley and the officers settled down. Zolf seemed too comfortable too fast to Archer, but the other officers were not offended by his casual manner. They asked him questions about his powers and about his part in the Ishbal war. They then began asking questions about his crimes.

Archer felt a knot in his stomach. This is what he was unsure of. He didn't know how the officers or the Fuhrer would react. When Kimbley gave an all too honest answer Archer's eyes flashed at the recently freed prisoner. Archer's ice blue irises soon slid halfway back under his lids and he resumed his normal cool demeanor.

The officers wanted Kimbley's power on their side and helped Kimbley 'remember' what really happened. They discovered that he was innocent and wrongfully imprisoned after the Ishbal war.

Frank was glad he was in the company of other gentlemen of similar mind. The meeting proved to be a success as they cleaned up Kimbley's reputation and laid out some plans for him.

Archer looked out the window and noted how much snow was coming down. It looked like a blizzard. 'If I have to put up the officers for the night that is one thing, but Kimbley?' Archer looked at Kimbley as he stuffed his mouth with flakey horsd'euveres. Zolf brushed the crumbs off his chest onto the couch and floor.

Frank turned his head ever so slightly to battle the tension building in his neck. 'WHY DOESN'T HE USE A NAPKIN?' Frank fought the urge to grab his broom and joined the conversation.

When it was time to leave the drivers went outside and tried to trudge their way to the cars. The snow had gathered and was nearly up to their hips. The cars were almost completely buried in the snow drifts. Archer swore to himself as he realized Kimbley would have to stay the evening.

The Crimson Alchemist walked outside with Frank and stood beside him. The wind picked up and ruffled the men's clothing. Neither were wearing a coat. Kimbley looked at the cars and said "I could take care of this. I just need the right ingredients."

Frank's secretary ran up behind them with their coats. Zolf waved his away and trudged through the gathering snow. Frank put on his overcoat and the hat she brought him and they both followed the Crimson Alchemist. Zolf grabbed the collar of one of his security guards and said "You're gonna help me get this car out of the snow."

The guard knew of Kimbley's powers and shook with fear. Frank was annoyed as he didn't want the mess of this man's remains to get on his house 'I just painted it this past spring!'

The secretary sprung forward with her hand held out "WAIT!"

Kimbley looked at the voluptuous blond in her red coat and stopped. Her hair was down that evening and he had been distracted by the large wavy curls she had. She was wearing a bulky coat, but her curves were still apparent to him. He day dreamed that her romp through the snow caused her clothes to fall off her shoulders and onto the ground. The mental image of her curvy naked body, her pink nipples, and her blonde waves against the stark cold snow made him hard.

He blinked back to reality and a fully clothed secretary. He hadn't been with a woman in a long time and he was becoming more and more aware of how long it had been the closer she got. He halted. "What?"

She came up closer to him. "Maybe you can use some ingredients from the kitchen?" she asked, pushing a few strands of hair aside.

Zolf narrowed his eyes in confusion "What?"

The guard got a spark of hope in his eyes. The secretary continued. She smiled and said "Well there are lots of ingredients there. Maybe it would be easier and" she looked over her shoulder at Archer then back at Kimbley "..less messy."

Kimbley's state of mind was that of pleasing the secretary. 'I'll play the humanitarian if that's what gets me some lovin'.' Kimbley snorted and dropped the guard whose knees had given out underneath him. He looked deep into the woman's eyes and said "Whatever you like." 'I wonder what this woman tastes like.'

The secretary nodded and they went to the kitchen. Archer's anxiety rose again as everyone piled into his house with their snowy gear. The secretary took Kimbley to the kitchen. Zolf sat back and watched as the secretary climbed up onto the counter to get to the higher cabinets in the Lieutenant Colonel's kitchen. He let himself gaze at her ass covered by the smooth fabric of her skirt.

Kimbley's imagination began to run amok again. He bit the inside of his cheek until he bled. It was all he could do to fight the urge to rip off the secretary's skirt and dive his face into her ass. She wiggled a bit and Kimbley closed his eyes. He put his head down trying to concentrate on something else, anything else, aside from her perfectly shaped buttocks. He said "You're not in the military? Don't you have to be in order to be his secretary?" he asked taking in her shape.

"I am" she said as she reached for a bottle all the way in the back of the top shelf stretching out her back "but the Lt. Col. is kind enough to allow me more relaxed rules when we are not in the office." Her shirt pulled out of her skirt and the sliver of flesh Kimbley caught was overwhelming to his senses. "As a secretary it is not mandatory that I wear that ridiculous bulky uniform." She turned around and sat with a few bottles in her hand "How are these?"

Kimbley said "I could make a cake with them, but an explosion is unlikely." He continued to look at her lap where she held the bottles. He resisted reaching out and touching her bare knee. His eyes followed the shadow that her skirt left on her inner thigh and desired more than anything to kiss those thighs and taste her—

"The Fuhrer has decided you and his party will be staying here this evening. It is too risky on the road" announced Archer, clearly unhappy with the decision. Archer walked in and saw the two trying to come up with a suitable concoction. 'Why is Zolf staring at the baking soda like that?'

* * *

That night the men were distributed throughout the house. The Fuhrer and higher ranking officers were able to sleep in the guest bedrooms. The other officers, drivers and Kimbley slept in the living room on the couches and floor. Kimbley lie on the couch awake and horney as hell.

Zolf decided to go to the bathroom and stepped carefully over the men on the floor and walked down the hall to the bathroom. As he was relieving himself of all the water he drank earlier he couldn't help but visualize the secretary's breasts bursting out of her white button down shirt. He found himself stroking his member at the thought. 'I might as well take care of this now. Maybe then I can get some sleep…' He closed his eyes and imagined driving his penis deep into her wet vagina. He could almost hear her breathy moans and feel her smooth skin in his hands.

When Kimbley finished up he came out into the hallway and was going to head back to the couch until he saw the curvaceous shadow of the secretary move into Archer's room. 'Was she wearing a robe? It seemed like nothing at all. One of those sheer numbers, eh?'

He wanted to follow the woman, and he was curious what kind of hanky panky Archer was up to. Then he smirked as he realized that Archer barely looked at the beautiful woman. Kimbley thought 'He hardly acknowledged her presence tonight. How could he not? She's such a fox! What a waste. They're were probably having some kind of midnight meeting to make sure all his pencils are sharpened to the same length.' Zolf stifled a laugh when he thought of Archer cleaning up before they went to bed. 'What was with that guy and the tassels on his rug?'

Still Kimbley was interested and he followed the woman. 'Maybe they're going over something valuable that I can use to negotiate some more freedom. Maybe they're fucking, who knows.' Kimbley looked through the key hole and didn't see anything.

It was as though no one was in the room. He could see the bed clear as day, and straight through to the other side of the room and out the window. He heard a strange creaking noise and a click.

He heard some rustling in the living room and thought it best to get back to sleep. 'If they're not in bed, or on the floor next to the bed they're probably not fucking. What _are_ they doing?' He walked back to his couch and passed a guard in the hall on his way.

The next morning the local sanitation department was able to clear the roads and the men filed out of the house and left. The secretary took her own car home. On the ride back to the base Kimbley's curiosity nearly ate him alive. 'What were they doing?'

* * *

A week later Kimbley received notice that he would be moving to his own house on the base per Lieutenant Colonel Archer's orders. Kimbley was thankful and not completely without manners so he went to thank Frank for the accelerated pace which he got him into a private home.

In the middle of the sunny day he walked down the snow shoveled path to Archer's door. The effects of the blizzard were still all over the neighborhood. It kept snowing in the evenings. Kimbley knocked on the door and got no answer. The other reason he had come began to nag at him. 'Where did those two go that night? What was that creaky sound I heard?'

Kimbley let himself in. Archer had locked his door, but the brass door knob was easy enough to destroy. The door opened and Kimbley entered Archer's house. He could smell the cleanliness, and after the filth that he lived in prison it was a welcome scent.

He quickly found his way back to Archer's bedroom and found the door open.

He strolled in and looked around. It was a plain room. A desk with a bookshelf, a queen sized bed, and a dresser. There was a long full length mirror on the wall. In the mirror Kimbley noticed an interruption in the wooden floor. He walked over to it and saw an indent in the floor.

And that was how he ended up seeing what he was seeing right now:

"Shit" said Kimbley out loud.

Archer was hanging with his ankles and wrists bound together from the ceiling. His belly was hovering about three feet above the ground. A leather studded harness wrapped around his body hung from the ceiling by two chains. The leather harness had a hole in it allowing Frank's pink, swollen penis to be visible. Archer was sweating profusely and the red ball gag in his mouth stopped him from exclaiming to his secretary.

She was standing over Archer with a short whip in her hand. A leather mask covered half of her face and the leather bustier and fishnet thigh highs were connected to her black thong with chains.

'I guess this is where he lets loose' was all Kimbley could think. 'At least I know he does. I thought he was a little too tight assed.'

The chain creaked the wood on the ceiling and Archer hung his head in shame and thought 'I hate Kimbley. I really really hate Kimbley.'

* * *

Not terribly creative for those who have read Dirty Dog, but it's fun to put new characters together in these situations. I'm just testing the waters here. I haven't written FMA before and I have a couple of other ideas lined up for real stories. I'm just getting a feel for these characters and playing around with the ideas. Let me know what you think :) Please R&R! Thanks. 


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